Call Me
by Nidoran Duran
Summary: Brock calls up Marley for phone sex, doesn't quite get what he expects. Quasi-comedy/smutfic.


Sort of an awful idea, halfway to a joke, that came up in a chat room. I sort of had to.

…..

"I'm going to do this," Brock said, reaching for the phone. The illuminated screen before him had one of those sites where people offer to sell stuff and such. The ad he was interested in, though, had nothing to do with a used couch.

"Cute girl up for phone sex, maybe meeting up at a later point for real sex. Not into anything really kinky."

Accompanied were several pictures; none of them nudes or even very risqué, but enticing nonetheless. They showed a girl with short black hair and lacking the faintest traces of a smile on her skin that looked paler than Brock thought healthy, though her complexion carried a strange beauty. In a black dress lined with white that was just a little whiter than her skin, topped off with a white bow, she almost looked gift-wrapped. So how could Brock, a man with needs that never went fulfilled, resist? He rang up the number listed and waited.

It took a few rings, but at long last, he was greeted with a dry, emotionless, "Hello?"

"Hi Marley this is Brock you might remember me as the guy who saved you in the boat well I read your ad on the website about phone sex and I called because I'm interested and you mentioned something about sex later and maybe we could see about that someday and I'm really horny right now so maybe we could get right to the phone sex please I really want this."

The words came out so fast he was actually sort of amazed. Within a matter of seconds he spoke faster than he ever had before, and was met on the other line only by silence.

His heart raced. Not already. There was no way he had messed things up so soon that she was just going to hang up on him, but her silence would indicate otherwise. Time seemed to slow to an utter crawl as he awaited confirmation, be it her voice or a click.

"Okay."

Brock almost fell back in his chair at the word. Really? She was alright with it? He had hit the jackpot.

Within seconds, his boxers were open and the hand that wasn't holding his phone was eager to begin.

"What are you wearing?" he asked, figuring it was a good place to start.

"A black dress and black stockings." She was blunt, unemotive in her response.

"Well then, why don't you take it off and get more comfortable?" Brock said, wishing she had given a sexier response.

"But you're not here. Why should I get naked to talk on the phone to you?"

Brock suddenly expected a fair amount of trouble in getting off tonight. Maybe he should have stuck to the pictures; she was hot enough to get him off, and it would certainly be a lot less struggle. "Imagine we're in a room together, on a bed. Pretend to take them off. This is all about pretending we're having sex. Masturbate, if it helps."

Marley sighed, "Okay, I'm naked. I take your shirt off and kiss you."

She's getting somewhere, he thought. It wasn't all that much with her voice to bear, but she was making progress, and that was all Brock could really ask for. At the very least, they were getting into the act and his mind could start going places; naked Marley kissing him while tearing off his clothes was a good start.

"I run my hands through your hair and pull you down onto the bed, whispering naughty things into your ear. My hands dance slowly down your back, holding onto your hips for a moment before I pull down my pants."

"I turn around and crawl off of you. I stick my ass up in the air and ask you to do me."

With the mental image growing in Brock's head, he was beginning to get into things more and more. His hand worked up and down furiously. "I get up behind you, cock in hand, and tell you to brace yourself."

"I pull away and shout that you need to put on a condom first because I don't want to get pregnant."

Brock groaned, almost gearing up to hit his head against the desk. "Come on, this isn't real. We don't need to bother with this. I just want to jack off and get some kicks out of this, so can't you just play along?"

"You don't just 'play along' when it comes to pregnancy. It's a very real possibility. Put a condom on." For all the strangeness and absurdity in what she was saying, her voice remained monotone.

With a grumble and a sigh, his voice dripping with regret as to even bothering, he muttered through gritted teeth, "I have a condom on. Now bend over and let me fuck you."

With all the enthusiasm one would read a grocery list with, Marley said, "Oh yes, Brock, fuck me. Fuck me hard. I love your cock."

"Yeah, take it hard. You're so tight." Brock had decided to ignore her voice and focus on the mental image of her on all fours on his bed, sweaty and moaning as he pounded her tight hole. His wank fantasy was enough to salvage this terrible idea, give him something to masturbate to.

"Yes, Brock, I'm cumming." What followed later almost made Brock collapse to the floor laughing; a series of "oohs", "ahs", "ohs", and various other sounds delivered in a voice that, much to his amazement, seemed even more deadpan than her speaking voice. It was the most unenthused acting he had ever heard, and given the whole condom thing, was starting to think she was just having a laugh at his expense. In frustration, he hung up on her and slammed it down on the table, turned to his computer, and searched through his bookmarks for that site with all the cleavage and panty shots of various Nurse Joys. So much for a change of pace.

"Hello? Hello?" Marley sat there, wondering why the connection had cut out. She was kneeling on her bed, skirt hiked up, her free hand pumping a rather thick dildo in and out. She was riding fresh from an orgasm and ready for more, but Brock seemed gone. A shame; she was having so much fun, and if he was still up for it, she would have wanted to meet him in person and do it for real.

Maybe the next guy wouldn't be so rude.


End file.
